I'm Yours
by ForeverImmature
Summary: Gordie/Chris Slash. No like no read. Rated T for language. Is friendship the limit for these two?
1. Gordie: River

**TITLE: I'm Yours**

**BY: ForeverImmature**

**WARNING: Gordie/Chris slash. Anyone with a problem can click the little X at the top of the screen. Bad language too.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: The awesome book is the property of Stephen King. And the film is Rob Reiner's. I'm just corrupting the characters xD. I don't own the wonderful song "I'm Yours" either. That is the property of The Script, whose lyrics inspired me to write this, just seems to fit so perfectly.  
**

_You touch these tired eyes of mine, _

_And map my face out line by line,_

_And somehow growing old feels fine..._

GORDIE

"Shut the fuck up, dickhead."

"Whatever, shit-face."

_Ah, t_he blissful happiness I felt as I leant back against the tree. Chris and I were in the woods, on a stiflingly hot day in late August. School was a day away and we were spending our remaining hours denying the inevitable. The sun beat down on us, the trees offering little shade as we insulted each other happily.

"What the hell? Shit-face? Jeez. That's original."

"What? And dickhead is?"

"Shut the fuck up."

We started the cycle again. I think we could've continued all night if Chris hadn't interrupted by smacking me in the back of the head – hard.

"OW! What the-? What was that for?"

"Nothin'. You were getting on my nerves, Lachance."

"Eat shit, wet end." I snarled, heading for the trees.

"Aw, come on Gordie! Don't be a pussy."

I felt him coming after me, and quickened my pace. Laughing a little. I hurried towards the river, and hid in a clump of bushes beside it.

He came stumbling in a couple of seconds later, his hands sticking in his dirt-blonde hair. His eyes roamed around the clearing, looking for me. Like he would find me, I was damn good at hide and seek.

"Oh, Gordo? Where are ya?" He prowled around like an animal, stifling laughter.

A few minutes later, I heard him murmur to himself, "Ah, must have doubled back on me. Gone back the other way. Ah, well. Find 'im later." And then he SHRUGGED OUT OF HIS SHIRT.

Now, I'd seen Chris shirtless on many occasions when we were twelve, but now – three years later – I envied his muscles. _Stupid fucker didn't deserve_ '_em_. _Numb shit._

Then he started to unbuckle his jeans. I froze in my hiding place. _Holy shit. _Part of me wanted to jump up and warn him I could see, but some insane part of me stayed still. Surprised and chagrined as he slid them over his ankles and stepped out of his boxers.

I dived down, burying my face in the dirt. A couple 'a seconds later I heard a splash as he dived into the water. I peaked up and, seeing he had his back to me, snuck back home.

***

Later, I lay on my bed. Hands behind my head as I contemplated today's events. Why would it bother me to see my best friend naked? I mean, we were both guys and we both had.. uh, issues. Why was I freaking out about it? I knew the answer. I had _liked _it. Liked it too fuckin' much.

_Gahhhh, I really need to get a girlfriend. _I thought. Shaking the disturbing thoughts out of my head. I decided I would corner some girl at school when we went back, get my hormones flowing in the right direction.

As I was settling down to read, I heard a sharp snap coming from my window as a fist pounded against it. Chris.

"Will you stop that?" I snarled, flinging the latch up so he could climb in, "You're gonna break it one 'a these days."

He didn't laugh, just stood there looking at me strangely.

"Where the fuck did you run off to, Lachance? I was lookin' for you."

"I got tired of your dumbass voice. I came home."

I smiled, to show I didn't mean it, but I felt a strange stir in my chest as I surveyed Chris. His hair was still slightly damp, and his blue eyes sparkled.

"Hm. I was gonna ditch you anyway." He mumbled, flinging himself down on my bed as I shifted from foot to foot uneasily.

"Then what are you doin' here?"

"My old man's around. Been smackin' Eyeball up. Don't wanna get involved in that shit."

I nodded.

"You alright, Gordie? You're acting kinda strange. Somethin' wrong?"

"Naw," I murmured unconvincingly, my eyes on my feet. He sensed my unease and jumped up to stand next to me. He put an easy hand on my shoulder. Why did my heart have to race at the feel of his touch? This shit was freaky. _Fuckin' hormones. Been away from girls too long._

He was staring at me, worried that I was unhappy. Damn him for being so perceptive.

"I'm fine, Chambers. Get off me, you pansie."

He laughed, and leaned back against the wall.

"You OK about school?" He asked.

"What's there to be OK about? Work. Crap food. Teachers. Eugh."

"Yeah, but hey, I'm thinkin' about gettin' a girl this term."

I looked up at him sharply.

"You are?"

"Yeah." He seemed surprised by my reaction. Shit, so was I.

"There must be a waiting list by now."

Chris had a little fanclub of giggling girls, but hadn't shown any interest up to that point.

He smiled. "I know, Lachance. Guess I'm just irresistible."

"Pffft.. if you say so. I'm thinkin' about getting a girl, too. As it happens."

His face was composed. "Cool. We can double date."

I laughed, relieving the tense bubble that had been building in my stomach. It was just too easy being around Chris. He'd had a shit time, but always had an upward attitude. Sure, he could talk some shit, but I honestly couldn't think of anyone who knew me as well as he did. We were a double act, and nothing could change that. We'd be friends forever, probably die in the same old folk's home. Side by side. Didn't sound like such a shit idea.

**Haha. xD**

**Not your typical marysue, eh? I love GordiexChris stuff. Seems soo sweet! :D. Just to tease ya, I have the three next chaps in the doc manager ready to be uploaded. the more reviews, the sooner they will be added! I wanna see if its wroth putting them up. so if you want more soon, REVIEW!! lol i just love reviews...**

**Sorry this was so short. The next is much longer xx  
**


	2. Chris: Party

**Only one review for this, but ima still update for you jezzlovescherrypez. Please keep reviewing hun! Even if no one else does... xx**

_Now listen close, for I'm not smart,_

_You wrap your thoughts in works of art,_

_And they're hangin' on the walls of my heart._

CHRIS

The first day of school. As Gordie had said, "eugh". I walked down the corridors, smelling that familiar scent of cheesy feet and undercooked food. _Why the hell did kids have to go through this every day?_

I spotted Becky Newton leaning against my locker, flipping her hair extensions over her exposed shoulder. She was brown, healthy looking - either from a lack of sunscreen, or extensive visits to the tanning salon. However, these improvements did not detract from my opinion of her. That teeny-tiny voice made me dig my nails into my palms.

"Chris! Hi!" She chirped. _Nope, her voice hadn't gotten more bearable over the summer. _

"Hey, Becky," I said, not wanting to be rude as she got in my face. "How were your holidays?" I quickly pulled my books out as fast as humanly possible.

"Cool, thanks. I was just wondering if you wanted to-"

"Hey." I turned to see Gordie standing behind me. I wheeled around, relieved.

"Gordie!" I said too loudly, flinging an arm around his shoulder and yanking him down the corridor.

"Ow, Chris!" He complained. "What the-?"

"Sorry," I muttered when we were a safe distance away. "Had to get away."

"That's not nice," He looked back at the disgruntled Becky and paused. "She's not bad looking, y'know?"

"Nah. I like 'em a little less obvious. Someone I actually _like _would be good."

"You don't like _anyone _at this school."

"Don't I?" I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively, laughing as his face went a fetching shade of red. It was so fun making him blush. _What a shrimp._

He started walking really fast all of a sudden, so I was half running to keep up with him.

"Hey, Gordo! Stop, man."

He kept going, so I quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into a locker.

"Gerroff, Chambers!" He squirmed, staring at the floor.

"I laaaaaiikee yooou!" I smirked and, before he could stop me, planted a sloppy kiss on his red cheek. So wet I half spat on him.

"Ewwwww!" He squealed like a girl as I released him.

"Too bad you don't have tits and hips." I said, straightening up.

"Yeah, too bad." He murmured, wiping his face as we started to walk again. I looked at him, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes far away. What was up with him today?

***

Later, in History class, I found myself in another girl situation. This was one of the few classes I had without Gordie (he was such a brainiac, he was gonna go places) so I was on my own.

"Hey, Christopher." This was Kerri Brandon.

"It's Chris." I muttered. Kerri was wearing a weeny vest top and miniskirt. Seemed like _someone_ was enjoying the heat, but weirdly I wasn't mesmerized by her body. I was just bored and missing Gordie's idiotic chatter, class sucked without him.

"Just wondered if you'd like to come to my party tonight?" She said hopefully, leaning over my desk and giving me an eyefull.

I looked at her, properly this time. Yeah, she was pretty. I could probably fancy her if I worked myself up to it. Wasn't that what normal guys did? _Normal _guys didn't do stupid things by rivers because of hormones, did they? _Normal _guys didn't strip off in front of their best friends.

"OK, I'll be there."

She jumped, surprised and elated.

"Y-you will?! Great! Starts around eight. You know where I live, right?"

Of course. Everyone knew where everyone lived in Castle Rock. That's why we all bolted our doors when Ace Merril hit the beer - this was scarily often, I always thought the man had a liver of steel.

"Yeah, see ya there."

"Awesome!"

At that moment, the bell rang and I got the hell outta there before she started planning our wedding.

I saw Gordie leaning against the wall by the water fountain, pushing his floppy hair out of his thin face. I scared the shit out of him, grabbing him from behind.

"You're such a pussy, Lachance."

He jumped like he had when he was twelve. I chuckled, ruffling his hair and skipping out of the way as he aimed a punch at my back.

"There's a party tonight, we're goin'." I informed him.

"Who says?" He whined, "I have stuff to do."

"Like what? We haven't got any homework yet."

I always made damn sure Gordie did his homework. It was fine for a dumbass like me to flunk, but he had a future to uphold. He was real smart, and his stories were gonna make him famous someday, sometimes he said things that made me gasp. No kid ever came up with shit like that, it was like poetry or something. Stuff I would remember.

"Just _stuff._ You don't need to know every detail of my existence, Chambers. 'Sides, I don't feel like watching you hit on girls." He said the last part with feeling.

I glanced at him, but he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Aw, c'mon, Gordo. I ain't goin' by myself."

"You don't have to. Teddy and Verne will be there most likely."

"They're not _you_.I need _you_." This part came out fast. More intense then I'd intended, more true than I'd realised. I cleared my throat.

Gordie grimaced for a moment, as if in pain. But then his expression cleared.

"Alright, fine. But you owe me for this."

"Sure, sure. I'll swing by your place 'bout eight. You never know, we might find a sap desperate enough to let you feel her up."

I shrugged off the weird feeling I got at that idea. _Fuckin' hormones. _

That _river_ thing was not gonna happen again. I'd half been trying to scare him, but part of me had _wanted _him to see...

***

At eight, I chucked a few rocks at Gordie's window. Our old signal from years ago.

"Oi, Lachance! Get out here!"

"Fuck off." Was his lovely greeting as he stepped out on to the front porch, swinging the door shut behind him. He was wearing baggy jeans (hell, any jeans were baggy on Gordie) and a black t-shirt. His hair was all floppy again.

"Ugh, Chris, do we HAVE to go?" He pouted like a little kid and I heard a double meaning in his words. I was seriously tempted to forget the whole thing and go hang in the tree house, but managed to snap myself out of it. We had to go. _Meet girls. Be normal._

"Yup. We're goin'. C'mon."

He sighed melodramatically, but sulked after me as I set off for the party.

When we got to Kerri Brandon's house, Gordie was still pissed. He disappeared as soon as we'd got through the door. I looked around for him, but was quickly pulled into the clutches of the hostess. Her manicured nails grazed my skin as she pulled me through the crowds of gyrating bodies.

We eventually emerged in a semi-quiet area in the hallway, where she immediately began simpering in my ear. She was wearing a short black dress and lots of lipstick. She smelt like a perfume factory. As the girl giggled in my ear, I continued scanning the crowd for my best friend. _He must have gone upstairs, _I figured. I'd find him later, _I hadn't meant to make him mad... _

I snapped back to earth when I felt Kerri running her fingers along my chest. Her body was tight against mine, suffocating. I felt a sudden urge to wretch, the room seeming to spin around me. It was too hot, her scent too overpowering. I pulled back, cringing away from the little alcove and running for the stairs. I soon lost her in the crowd.

As I pushed through the horizontal bodies on the steps, all I could think about was finding Gordie and getting the hell out of there. This had been a mistake. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All I knew was that I _didn't want her. _That gorgeous girl in the black dress, who would do anything with me. Kerri. She didn't _appeal _to me.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I ran into Becky Newton. She'd been drinking. Her breath stank of those cheap alchopops as she pressed her wet lips to mine. It was wrong. Sweet and soft and sticky and wrong. I pushed her away roughly.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" She slurred, "You faggot or somethin'?"

Luckily (for who I don't know) she ran off to puke her guts up, leaving me frozen on the landing. _You're not a faggot, _I told myself, _You just don't like larey girls getting in your face. You need someone funny and kind and.. and..._

I blundered through the rooms, ignoring the cries of protest from the various couples strewn across the beds and carpets. I stopped short when I finally found Gordie. He was leaning against a wall, a pretty girl pressed up against him. He was laughing animatedly at something she was saying, looking more alive than he had all day. Well, excluding the kiss we'd shared in the hallway. I felt an urge to make him happy too. Make him feel _alive_, too. What did she have that I didn't? _Tits and hips. _I repeated my own words to myself. And it was true., wasn't it? We were both normal guys. _Straight_, normal guys. We liked _chicks_. We were just connected in a freaky way. Brothers.

But the way I looked at Gordie slightly outweighed brotherly affection as I hurried toward him. A torrent of white hot protectiveness seared at me. I grabbed him by the shirt - shaking the girl off easily - and dragged him away.

"Oh, see ya later, Gordo!" I heard the girl call from behind us in her stupid voice. 

_Well _t_hey sure had gotten cosy._

**Hope you liked ;)**


	3. Gordie: Fight

**Ok. Here we go...**

_I may not have the softest touch,_

_I may not say the words as such,_

_And though I may not look like much,_

_I'm yours..._

GORDIE

"Chris!? What the hell?" I yelled as soon as we were out in the cool night air. I wrenched my hand away from his and glared at him, rubbing my sore arm. The boy had grabbed me so many times that day, it was starting to take its tole on my body.

"What?!" He glared back at me breathlessly, scrabbling in his jeans for a cigarette.

"You go on about the freakin' party and then you drag me out as soon as we fuckin' get there."

"I got bored." He said, lighting up and inhaling sharply. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he had a bad headache or something.

"What do you think you were doin'? Grabbin' me away from Janice? I liked her! I don't need no babysitter, I can get home by myself."

"Aww, Janice? Someone's familiar aren't they? Did the poor girl let you get to third base? You stupid fuck. She was ugly as crap. You need your freakin' eyes tested." Chris spat.

That was a basic lie. Janice had been very pretty.

"Don't be such an ass, Chambers. She was nice."

And she _had _been. But not in the way you'd think. We'd been having this really cool conversation about unrequited love when Chris had burst in, acting like a total psycho.

"Fuck off."

"Don't be such a shithead. You're just jealous 'cos you didn't pull anyone."

"I did." His voice was quiet now, thoughtful. He stamped out his cigarette and watched as it ground into the dirt.

"Then why the fuck are you so fuckin' mad?"

"I-I didn't _want _any of them."

"Not your type? Well you'll get another one easy, you have groupies for fuck's sake." I touched his arm, trying to make peace. To calm the tense atmosphere. I was still angry but I wanted to get that broken look out of his eyes more than anything else.

"I don't think that's it." He muttered. Almost to himself, I think.

"Then wha-" My heart sped. In hope?

"I don't have a fuckin' clue, Gordie, all right? I have no freakin' idea and you're really not helping matters. Why don't you just go the fuck home?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked boldly.

"No. That's the fuckin' issue."

"Well thanks a-fuckin'-lot, Chambers. That don't make no sense."

"None of this does."

"Aw, fuck you." _If only. _

"Fine. I'm gettin' the FUCK outta here." He yelled, storming off.

I watched his retreating back in silence, hurt and confused and fighting the feelings that burned at my insides. I wanted to run after him...

What was the fucking problem? My heart beat faster. I was terrified. Terrified he'd come back. Terrified he'd keep walking...

He suddenly stopped, a few paces away. He jumped back toward me, barrelling into me and sending us both tumbling to the floor. His eyes blazed and his fists flew.

"WHY, GORDIE? WHAT THE FUCK?" He yelled, punching me hard in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.

"WHY DO I ALWAYS COME BACK FOR YOU?" He screamed, gripping me hard, pinning me to the floor as he shouted in my face, almost begging for a reaction. An answer.

Something in me snapped. The small part of me that hated Chris, envied his strength and looks and speed, came flying out. That, combined with the total depth of this inexplicable situation, fueled the force behind the slap I dashed across his taut face. A slap, not even a punch. A pitiful, futile slap. He gasped, dazed, and I took the opportunity to try and wriggle free of his grasp. But because he is Chris Chambers (and therefore superior to me in every way) he had to win. He punched me again, this time in the jaw. I couldn't bite back the cry of pain that flew from my mouth. I bit down hard on my lips, drawing blood. At the sound of my pain, Chris froze completely. I watched his face as it contorted in horror. He stared at his hands as if they no longer belonged to him. As if he had not been the one to deliver the blows.

"Gordie-?" His voice cracked and he started to cry. Hot tears streamed fast down his face as he stared at his still clenched fists, where they rested on my hips. He made no attempt to conceal his crying, just let the water flow from his eyes. This was the second time I'd seen Chris cry in the fourteen years I'd known him. Christopher Chambers never cried. Everyone knew it. He didn't cry when his Dad smacked him around, he didn't cry when he saw his Mum stand there and watch, letting it happen. He didn't cry when he saw his brother stand there, egging his father on. _He didn't fucking cry. _

Then what was this?

I watched his face for immeasurable moments, my hands resting limply on his chest. Either to console him or to keep him away from me. His streaming eyes stayed locked with mine, our faces only inches apart. There were no barriers in our expressions. No concealments. I saw torment, anger, confusion, sorrow in his face. I wondered what he could see in mine.

Slowly, so slowly time seemed to stand still, I moved a little closer to my best friend. I gripped the back of his head with my hands, knotting my fingers in his hair so I could look deeper into his face. Maybe it hurt, but he didn't complain.

I wanted to read his thoughts. His anxieties, what he wanted. Because I knew what I wanted.

Forgetting all about my aching jaw and bloody mouth, I pulled my face even closer to Chris'. Our eyelashes almost touched, the colour in his eyes almost filling my entire vision. I saw recognition dawn in them, so piercing in the darkness.

I felt hands move from my hips to my shoulders, locking me even more securely in place. I was happy to be restrained, I didn't want to move an inch. Doubt I could have even if I had wanted to. Chris moved his face a way a little, taking in my expression. Testing. I was tired of testing. Do or die. SOMETHING had to happen. We had to decide. I yanked hard on his hair in frustration, some of the hysteria and reality coming back to me as his fingernails dug into my shoulder blades. This was war.

I was braced for the assault of his fists, or – worse – the sound of his fading footsteps, when I felt his lips come down on mine - hard. He crushed our mouths together, moving his hands up my neck to grab fistfuls of my hair. It was like an assault. Bitter and painful and fucked up and freaking wonderful. I felt his full weight on my chest, happily suffocating in his embrace as we beat the crap out of each other - from the inside this time.

**OK so this chapter was probably one of the biggest ones yet. I don't want this to be some soppy love story, or porn 'fic. I'm trying to capture the confusion etc. Did I get it right? More soon, jezz and erin!! thanks for reviewing you guys! Btw, I was inspired by watching this REALLY old tv series called "one summer". The boys in it don't have this relationship, but they look the way I imagine C/G. Well, one of them does anyway xD. So if you know anyone who likes GordiexChris stuff. Plleeeease recommend my 'fic to them!! And if theres any suggestions for the plot, send away!! Ta ladies! Keep reviewing!! F.I XX**


	4. Chris: Night time

**Hope you like!! EVERYONE REVIEW PLEEEASE...!!! This is not going to be easy. Twists to come... This may have to hold you over for a while. I have to type the next one up.**

_And though my edges may be rough,_

_I never feel I'm quite enough,_

_It might not seem like very much,_

_But I'm yours..._

CHRIS

Kissing Gordie was very different to Becky kissing me. Her lips had been soft, wet. Gordie's were chapped, rough and angry as I mashed my mouth against his. I pulled my hands from his hair, wrapping my arms around his small body, squeezing the life out of him. Bear hugging. This wasn't a kiss, it was a _war._ I felt his blood in my mouth, bitter and twisted. I leaned away and spat into the dirt, before grabbing his face again. This was not sensible. But it sure as hell felt good...

Eventually, Gordie wrenched his lips away from mine with a wild gasp. His eyes met mine and we processed the situation, a little of our sanity returning.

I was lying on the dusty sidewalk at night, with my best (MALE) friend squirming deliciously beneath me. I merely tightened my grip, attacking his lips again. Refusing to acknowledge the sheer weirdness of this scene. This time I'm sure he kissed back, his tongue scraping along my rigid jaw. Damn this was so fucking wrong... but not wrong like it had been with Becky. Wrong because it was so wonderfully right in every way. His compact body fit every line of mine, and I thought I'd die if I were separated from him. But someone had to do it, I guess. I refused to let myself think as he pulled away again.

"Uh, Chris..?" Gordie murmured breathlessly.

"What?" I growled against his lips. So glad I'd found where mine belonged.

"Shouldn't we, uh...?" I saw (and felt) his eyes dart to Kerri's house. Music was still blaring out from inside. Thank fuck no one had come out to puke or smoke (second thoughts, they probably wouldn't have the grace to do either outside)

"Oh. Yeah." I reluctantly jumped up, pulling him with me.

"I better get home." Gordie moved back slightly. I grabbed his arm roughly, hating the distance.

"Um, Gordie. Can I sleepover? Nothin' gross or shit but my old man's on a mean streak. I was gonna ask anyway." I said honestly.

_Don't think. Don't think don't think don't think! _I commanded myself. Tonight would be about feelings, and being _alive_. I wouldn't face the truth until tomorrow. Like a child, I disregarded the consequences of everything that would happen (or had happened) that night.

Gordie's breathing faltered as he considered.

"Uh.. alright." The writer lost for words? This was getting even more freaky.

We walked back to his house in an awkward silence, a space between us. Had it really only been half an hour ago that we'd left? A lifetime of things had happened. Changed... _SHUT THE FUCK UP. _

I glanced at my friend, and saw he looked about as uncomfortable as I felt . _God damn. How did we end up here? _I thought to myself, _I'll never be good enough. Never. SHUT UP!_

"No one in. Parents outta town." Gordie muttered as we stepped through the front door. My heart jammed painfully in my chest, racing with an uncomfy mix of nausea and anticipation. Would there be more kisses?

The house was as dark as the street. Eerie. Silent. Gordie lead the way to his room, not bothering to switch on lights.

We stood on opposite ends of the room, the air humming around us. I could hear crickets buzzing far away, which was surprising since my pulse was drumming so loud in my ears. I wondered if I should set up my usual camp bed on the floor, praying I wouldn't have to.

Gordie flicked on the lamp. A dim light flared up at the ceiling and cast shadows over his face. He turned to look at me, and I gasped as I saw the marks I'd left on him. The harsh red lines on his jaw that were fast becoming bruises... I stumbled over to him, grabbing his face so I could examine the damage. I pulled up his shirt, revealing the already purple circles that peppered his all-too-prominent hipbones. I hissed.

"Jeez, Lachance. I've fucked you up pretty bad." My voice sounded weird, not my own. I swallowed and wet my lips. Why was my throat so damn dry?

He shrugged, "Naw. You're not that tough." A week smile ghosted in his eyes, but disappeared too fast. The bravado was false. Wrong. The humming seemed to intensify, whirling up the air between us like some mad electricity.

I laughed uneasily, one hand still on his face, the other clenched around a fistful of his shirt. He was so fucking fragile, like I could break him easily.

Slowly, I smoothed my fingers over his bruised jaw and up over his cheeks. Exploring his face. His eyes closed as I traced the shape of his lips. They parted slightly under my hands and I felt his breath on my fingertips. _Enough. Enough. Enough. _

Someone shouted at me, I think it was myself. This was so wrong. But that didn't stop me from pushing Gordie into a wall and kissing him again. I couldn't keep the aggressiveness out, but I don't think he could either. Perhaps we were clinging to our masculinity, trying to make it a fight rather than an embrace. In some ways, I guess it was better that way.

After a few minutes, Gordie wriggled out of my grasp, wiping a hand across his face. I remarked the deep circles that hollowed out his dark eyes, he was tired. And so was I. Tired of every stinking thing in my life, to put it mildly. Apart from Gordie. I could never be tired of him. I wondered if he was as tired as me.

I wrapped an arm around his little waist and pulled him on to his bed. Curling up against his back, I felt him slowly relax against me. His head fit perfectly into the crook of my shoulder. I sighed, closing my eyes. Trying to ignore the exclamations going off in my conflicted brain. _Wrong wrong wrong!_ Part of me wanted to punch Gordie, hit him again and again. To bruise him and cut myself into little pieces. The other wanted to chain his little wrist to mine and never, ever let him go.

And so we lay on my best friend's bed – fully clothed – like spoons in a cutlery draw. Soon I felt Gordie's breathing slow as he fell asleep in my arms, and I sighed, wishing I could sleep so easily. To escape from this situation. From everything, really.

I pressed a kiss into his dark hair, trying to pull myself under. Stealing another moment. Because this had to be the last time. The one and ONLY time. I couldn't do this.... this was against the law. Against nature...

But deep down I knew I'd always come back for him....

In some fucked up way, _I was his._

**Review gorgeousness'z. Update as soon as I can. F.I XX**


	5. Gordie: Denial?

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_You healed these scars, over time,_

_Embraced my soul, you loved my mind,_

_You're the only angel in my life._

GORDIE

I awoke, cold in the sunny morning, alone in my room. He was gone. Just a dent in my pillow and the scent of him all around me. Grass and smoke and something I couldn't quite place.

It was stupid to imagine that in the morning things would be the same, but it would have been even more idiotic to pretend it had never happened.

I don't think Chris realised that.

When I got to school, there was no sign of him at my locker. I sighed wearily, wishing I could go home and hide under my blankets. _Or maybe not,_ they probably still smelt like Christopher fuckin' Chambers. I corrected myself as I walked down the corridor. My hips ached from our stupid clinch last night, but in some weird way it felt _good. _Proof that it had been real.

Last night had been a mistake. A deadly, dangerous mistake that could get us both canned. Why the fuck had it happened? Hormones? No fuckin' way. I'd had Janice curled round me like a clinging vine, and I'd seen Chris being dragged off by that whore Kerri something. Maybe we were drunk? I couldn't remember having more than a couple of beers, but _would I_ if I'd been out of it? God knows if Chris had been sober.

I tried to tell myself that this was the explanation, but icy fingers of doubt crept up my spine. If I'd been drunk, why could I remember every detail of our kiss in perfect clarity? Why didn't my head ache like it had when Teddy had spiked my juice with vodka from his Daddy's cabinet?

I questioned myself to no avail as I walked to history, we were in separate groups for that class. I was weirdly grateful, needing time to sort my head out before the inevitable showdown.

Chris was my best friend. He'd seen me through the worst times, consoling and comforting. Always quick to sling an arm around my shoulder, and even pulling me close when I'd needed it. Teddy had joked that we were fags before, but he wasn't serious. It was just that we always stuck together. During all that shit with my Dad and Denny (which had left invisible scars that hurt worse than my hips) Chris had been there. A rock. A rock I depended on. But he didn't depend on me, he was Christopher Chambers. Tough guy Chris who took no shit and never cried. He didn't need anyone.

Then what in Jesus' name had happened last night? _Kissing, touching... _What was it? I mean, we both liked girls...

"Hey, Gordie." I was roused from my agonised musings by Janice, who was turning round to grin at me.

"Oh, hi, Janice. You okay?" I focused on her pretty face. Chocolate brown eyes, chesnut hair. Trying to feel something. _Anything. _

"Good thanks. How's life?" She looked at me strangely. Searchingly.

"Alright." I lied, turning my eyes the text book in front of me.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothin'." I lied again.

"Is it Chris?"

My head snapped up so fast it hurt.

"What?"

"Chris," She looked at me like I was crazy, "Aren't you two like, a 'thing'?" She flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder.

"No. What the fuck gave you that idea?" My voice was sharp.

She shrank back a little but persevered, "I-I saw the way he reacted at the party. Way to make it obvious." She shrugged, looking taken aback.

What? Chris had reacted to me talking to a girl? I bit back the question that nearly made it past my lips. _How did he react?_

"Well that's freakin' bullshit. Shut up, and don't go spreading shit around. Y'hear?"

She didn't cringe away from my angry snarl. She just looked at me sadly.

"You think he doesn't love you?" She asked. _What the fuck?_

"Shut up, girl!" I put my hands over ears, knowing they wouldn't drown her out.

She didn't even blink. "Find out, seriously. You two are so sweet together."

She turned around again, leaning over her work like we'd just had a totally normal conversation. I stared wordlessly at the back of her head for a few seconds, torn between hitting her and giving her a big hug. In the end I just froze my brain, forcing myself to only focus on American history as the clock tolled on toward break time.

After class, I decided enough was enough. I saw Chris by the cafeteria. _Don't be a pussy. _I commanded myself, forcing my feet to move in his direction. He didn't notice me until I was right behind him. I cleared my throat and he turned around to face me, then looked away again hurriedly. Like he couldn't stand to meet my eyes. He shifted from foot to foot uneasily.

_For fuck's sake! This is your best friend! _I screamed to myself. Were things so bad that we couldn't even look at each other any more?_ It would be easier if we could just pretend nothing happened_, I realised. But it wasn't gonna be that way, obviously. Not now.

"Hey." I said quietly, suddenly finding myself examining my shoes.

"Yeah." I heard him mutter almost inaudibly.

"So, um... you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah." That same flat monotone.

We stood in an awkward, painful silence for what seemed like hours. And then - not being able to stand it – I put a desperate hand on his shoulder. This was a big mistake.

He jerked away like I was poisonous, white hot anger twisting his face as he looked at me head on. His hands made contact with my chest and I reeled backwards, falling and cracking my head on the floor. This anger wasn't passionate. It was simple fury that blinded him to everything else.

"Don't fuckin' touch me, fag." He spat, his eyes wild."I fuckin' hate you, you know that? You no-good son of a whore! Who are you to put your grubby little hands on me? You know how pissed I was last night? Stupid faggot!"

I got to my feet as fast as I was able, not caring that my head and hips throbbed in protest. He continued ranting incoherently, grinding his feet into the floor like an enraged bull. I staggered away from him, unable to stifle the moan that escaped my mouth as the pain (both physical and emotional) sparked. I limped quickly down the corridors, fighting tears and clutching my head. Trying to drown out the inner pain, too.

I'd already begun to hope subconsciously. To wish, to dream...

If only the previous night had been real.

***

The rest of the day passed by miserably. Chris either glared at me like I was the scum of the earth, or flat out ignored me. I think I preferred the first state. At least he _acknowledged _me. Cared enough to hate me. But soon the glares diminished too, and I found myself praying that he would shoot me a venomous glance. How sad. How pathetic.

After school, I walked home in a depressed daze. My parents wouldn't be back till tomorrow, so I was all alone in the house with only sleep to look forward to. I missed my best friend.

Too wound up for homework or reading, I collapsed on to my bed about eight o' clock. I let Chris flood my mind. Punches of his smile, his determination. The look in his eyes as he'd hovered over me in that hot street. Drunk or not, that had to have meant something. Right?

I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks as I remembered the disgusted, contemptuous look that had filled his eyes when he'd called me faggot. I knew I'd rather die than lose my best friend...

I awoke suddenly. Tears now dry on my face, leaving a salty trail of dust. I'd fallen asleep, fully clothed with the lights still on. I wondered what had woken me as I hurriedly pulled off my shirt and socks, lying back on the bed with my hands behind my head.

I wanted to go back to sleep so I could stop thinking. Chris drifted in and out of my thoughts and it was giving me hell. Dreams would surely be more pleasant than this reality? I didn't want kisses from him, or any nasty gay shit like that. I just wanted us to be friends again. The rest I could live through.

I sighed, closing my eyes and listening to the rain pummel at my window. _Good,_ I thought dimly. _Maybe it'll be cooler tomorrow._

I'd about dozed off again, when something hit my window. Hard. Twice. I jumped. Was I still sleeping? What kinda freak dreamt about waking up?

To check, I slowly got up and found that the floorboards under my toes felt real. Substantial. Solid. I walked to the window and peered out. It was so dark and the glass was so flecked with rain that I could only just make out Chris' t-shirt. And his eyes. Hell, if this was a dream then I'd fuckin' take it.

I swung the latch up, and locked eyes with my friend. Water was dripping from ever plane of him, and drops spattered on to my bare chest and feet. Goosebumps rose on my arms. His sodden top clung to every inch of his chest, and his jeans squelched as he held on tight to my window pain, his knuckles white he was gripping so hard. His jaw was clenched tight, his mouth set in a hard line. How long had he been outside? His climbing the drainpipe must have woken me up.

I watched him carefully. Had he come to yell at me? Call me all those filthy words? Cautiously I put a hand on his soaked shoulder, braced for his assault like this morning. But none came. He continued to stare me out as I pulled him into my room, shutting the window behind him. Shutting us out from the rain and the dark.

Standing motionless, water dripped into a pool at Chris' feet. His eyes were lost, distant, like he didn't know what he was doing there. He blinked water out of his eyelashes. I stood in front of him. _Gotta be brave now, win or lose. _I told myself. This was real. No one could blame it on consumption of alcohol or hormones. We were both stone cold sober in both respects.

I moved my hand up to cup his cheek, my fingers spread just below his right eye. He kept his gaze on me, cautioning me with his eyes. _Go slow. _

I went in slow motion, inch by inch, until my lips touched his. He drew back slightly, convulsively, and I felt a mad sputter in my chest. But then he moved forward again, brushing his rough, wet lips against mine as softly as he was able. Tenderly. _This should have been our first kiss. _

This thought came from somewhere deep in the caverns of my brain. I resolved that I would always treasure this as such. The night Chris Chambers kissed me softly in my room, the lights bright and the rain sheeting down outside.

My hand still on his face, I knew I had to lead here. This was so hard for him. Going against his very nature, against every idea he'd ever had. Against the core of who he was. Hell, me too. Every second I stood before him I changed, my heart beat faster as it fought to make a space for rational thinking.

Carefully, I led him a few steps back, to my bed. I lay back, pulling his head down on my exposed chest. His head fit perfectly into the crook of my skinny neck, as he ran his hand over my chest. He acted like he were in a dream. A zombie. A robot. This upset me, but I would take what I could get. I could feel his fast pulse hammer in his throat. I stroked his hair, feeling him shake as he lay across me. Stiff and sad as he stroked my cold torso.

"It's okay... it's alright." I whispered soothingly, as if trying to calm a spooked animal. I rocked him back and forth, feeling his short hair smooth against my neck and fingers. He seemed to ease beneath my touch, and I moved to press my lips to his.

His arms – soaking wet – wound around me now, pulling me on top of him. God, he was so cold, it sent shivers up and down my body. His hand traced the shape of my cheekbone, as he kissed me back softly again. There was no aggression, – or at least, very little – this was simple. Easy. Indulgent. Beautiful. I was soon dripping with water too, and I felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. He sat up momentarily, yanking his sopping shirt off and chucking it into the corner of my room. I marvelled at his easy grace and musculature, greedy now I had the means.

Later, after some lazy kisses and no words, we fell asleep again. As I drifted off next to him, I knew he would stay this time. He _had _to.


	6. Chris: Damaged

**OK. Yeahh, this may seem a bit repetitive. But I guess you can cope with a little more love fighting? Lol, d/w, things pick up pretty well in the next chap. REVIEW. X**

_The day news came,_

_My best friend died,_

_My knees went weak and you saw me cry,_

_Say I'm still the soldier in your eyes..._

CHRIS

I woke up early, once again in my best friend's room with the guy butted against me. One of his hands lay on my chest, resting over my heart. I felt it speed in my ribcage as I embraced conciousness. Just like before, I was lying half naked with a BOY sprawled across me. A boy whose lips were red raw from _my _kisses, his collar and hip bones bruised from _my _teeth and _my_ hands. _Dang, I have to quit hurting him._ Would I be so rough if he were a girl? Somehow I doubted it. But maybe the reason this kept happening was that only he – a boy, skinny but relatively strong – could handle the ferocity of my kisses.

I couldn't retain the reflex grimace that twisted my face as I recalled the events of the previous night. Some of our 'kisses' had been sweet. Soft. No punches... no bruises. Which kind did I prefer?

I felt another flare of automatic revulsion wash through me. It was deja vu, a repeat of yesterday's panic. The feeling that had sent me scurrying from Gordie's arms at five thirty in the morning. This time, I fought back weakly. I couldn't continue to do everything under the cover of darkness. This cycle would not, _could not _continue. Do or die.

The night of the party had been so fucked up. I_ remembered him saying "fuck you". It was at that moment that I'd grasped the full gravity of the situation. I had tried to hurt him, walk away. But some alien part of me had come back, not fighting him but fighting the knowledge that I was not who I'd thought I was. That nothing would ever be the same. I'd lashed out, pummelling him. Trying to damage him the way I was damaged. Damaged goods. That was me, for fuck's sake. _

_Every moment we grappled outside Kerri Brandon's house, I'd cursed myself. You can't! You do?! I do? But my fists had kept dancing. Hurting him, hurting us both. Because I never would be good enough for him. Looking past the gender thing (as hard as that was) I was just a retard Chambers lout. A loser. A waste of space and air. Probably knock up a bint like Becky Newton and be chained to this miserable town forever. Die an old, crabby man who beat his kids and hit the beer with the other nobodies in the pub - My father. But hey, at least I'd be comfortable in my sexuality, right?_

_But Gordie – sensitive, brainy Gordie – could get out. Get away. Away from his no good son-of-a-whore Father, away from Denny's shoes. Away from Denny's grave. Christ, he'd been stuck under it long enough._

I looked back at him, remembering the fateful night in more detail. _His hands on my chest, his tongue in my mouth. When I woke up, I'd vehemently denied the ideas (all x-rated) that battered at my brain. Throwing them out, I'd decided I'd never speak to Gordon Lachance again. Like that was so fuckin' simple, right? _

_But when he'd cornered me by the cafeteria I had snapped. Seeing his impish, tired face had made me want to smash my head into a wall. I called him Pansie. Faggot. Bender. Punching him again with my words and my body. And as I had, I'd silently begged him with my eyes to see that I didn't mean it. But I guess I wasn't obvious enough, 'cuz he'd run off, making me hate myself that little bit more. I'd stayed boiling mad all day, glaring at him and grinding my teeth. I'd taken off home seconds after the bell. _

_That night however (last night) I had succumbed to whatever power he had over me. I'd run to his house in the sheeting rain at God know's what time. There, I skulked in the darkness. My eyes on the light at his window, and the shadows crawling up the wall. I battled with myself uselessly for what seemed like an eternity, before finally giving into whatever freak-ass thing drove me in my weak moments around Gordie. _

And now, here I was. Lying next to my best friend, reminiscing and trying to fight the rational part of my brain. Would I leave again now? Repeat the cycle? I didn't want to, but part of me (the part that my Dad inhabited) wanted to hit Gordie as he lay sleeping. To beat his faggot ass senseless and trash his room. To run away and burn my clothes, to rip my skin off. To swear blind to everyone (including myself) that I'd been drunk every time our lips had touched, every time I'd held him.

My indecision was interrupted when Gordie woke up. His dark eyes fluttered open and we locked eyes immediately.

"Hey." He said gruffly after a little while. He sat up, rubbing a little sleep from one eye and stretching.

I knew then, that I had to stay. For a little while, at least. _A little while. _Whether that be half an hour or fifty fuckin' years. I cautiously stroked a hand across his face, allowing a tentative smile to crawl across my mouth.

"Ugh, we gotta go school," He whined, rolling his shoulders.

"Naw, we don't." I said, an idea forming, "Let's skive off. Go hang somewhere."

"Chris, are you nuts? Its the _second day_, man. Sincerely."

"Jeez, where's your sense of adventure, ya pussy? What happened to the Gordo I used to know? C'mon, let's steal ourselves another holiday." I liked that idea, in the sun. Free and easy. Doing whatever we wanted...

"Aw, alright," He sighed, rolling back over on to his side and yawning, "Now go the fuck home for a bit, then. I need ma sleep, dumbass."

"And I don't?!" I laughed, lounging next to him and pulling the cover up over our heads. It was like we were seven again, playing hide and seek. 'Cept now there was this weird electricity fizzing away between us. I lay facing him. It was nice. Hiding under the thin shelter. I imagined we were invisible. Invincible. Untouchable. Just me and Gordie, as we should be. With this miserable excuse for a world turning away from us for a few seconds...

Gordie flicked my face with his fingers, "You are such a shit, Chambers."

"And you're a little fucker."

"Pussy."

"Freak."

"Ass."

"Dipshit."

"Fag."

I stared at him, wounded and dumbstruck. His eyes widened as he realised what had come out of his mouth. We had often had insult rallies like this, sometimes in exactly this order.

Gordie parted his lips to take it back, but it was far too late. Anger, hurt, self-loathing dawned in me - hot and searing and final. This lazy morning had turned ugly fast.

"Bender!" I spat, shoving the cover away and glaring down at him. He got up too, standing in front of me with his hands planted on his – most likely still bruised - hips. We both watched the floor. This rally would be ridden out like always.

"Queer."

"Ass-fucker." _Please don't believe me, Gordie. Look at me..._

"Pansie."

"Manwhore." _Look at me..._

"Sucker." This hurt, hitting me somewhere low.

"_Liar!_"

"Loser." This was said quietly. And it hurt worse than any of the swear words. I already knew it was true, but Gordie had always been the one to tell me it was a lie...

I threw myself at him, shoving him hard into the wall. This wasn't about bruised egos, it was merely a product of the inevitable. We were doomed. We couldn't be together, and by hurting the other we hoped to hurt the future. _Me, fucking a bruised, faceless girl every night in a loveless relationship. Him, walking away with a suitcase under his arm... _We wanted to break it. Make it disappear. Beat it into some quantifiable submission. Beat the feelings, the _lies_, away.

"Say that again!" I dared him, my insides boiling.

"LOSER!" The desperation was plain in his eyes. The longing...

I don't know who moved first, but suddenly our mouths were together again. I guess I didn't kiss him, I _forced_ myself on him. Banging him into the wall repeatedly, I drew more blood from his mouth with my teeth as my tongue plunged past his lips. He tried to kiss back, to _fight _back, but I didn't let him move an inch as I grabbed his hips, yanking him forward roughly until there was no space between us.

We fell to the floor, grappling like dogs, our arms and lips and legs locked in a death struggle. People would have thought we were fucking if they'd seen us. Or I was raping Gordie. But really we were fighting. Fighting everything. Fighting ourselves.

I felt part of me - Gordie's best friend - drift away as he pushed my head back a few inches. Our foreheads were rammed together, eye to eye we panted. I kept my hands locked on the sides of his head, gripping him so he couldn't move closer or further away.

"Christ, why do we always have to fight when we make out? Fuck with me all you want, Chambers," He gasped, "But kiss me like that and you tell me everything I need to know."

"No I don't!" I started to cry. Jesus Christ, _Second time in three fuckin' days. _But I wasn't alone. Gordie was sobbing too. It was about fucking time, he was supposed to be the soppy one. But that just about summed him up, he could make me do things in three days than I had never done before in my whole life. And I think I know why the tears were gushing then.

This was the end of our friendship, as we knew it. It had been consumed by this_ thing._ This vile, nasty thing that ate at us with an intensity that we couldn't fight effectively. There was no cure. Our old, comfy friendship was dead. Leaving only evil and fights and pain and swollen kisses that made no sense. Christ, it had only been three days.

Three days ago, I'd been Chris Chambers. A kid in Castle Rock, looking for a girl with tits and hips. Now I was Chris Chambers, a kid in Castle Rock, battered and kissed by a _boy_. A fucking boy! None other than Gordie fuckin' Chance. What a shitwad!

I stared numbly at my ex-best friend. He looked broken, too. Damaged as the tears dried up. I'd been right, this cycle couldn't start again.

"It's over, ain't it?"

We both new damn well what I meant. The innocence of our friendship... gone. Never again would we go fishing and joke about girls and homework, at least, not without falling over, beating each other up and then kissing with a wild passion that made my insides hurt.

"Yeah. It's over."

He wiped blood and tears from his face, and watched me move away from him again.


	7. Gordie: Broken

**Yo. I've been absent for a while and I'm sorry. The last chapter didn't get as many reviews as I hoped :( where are you guys?? I neeed you! And hey, if anyone sees anything they like particularly in this chap, please copy and paste it into the review! so i can see whats working. i love you guys!! the story is finished but if you want more you need to say it!! muahh xxx**

_I may not have the softest touch,_

_May not say the words as such,_

_And though I may not look like much,_

_I'm yours..._

GORDIE

Weeks passed in a stifling blur. Days spent with headaches, nights spent with painful heartaches. There were no more kisses after that night, as we grieved for our lost friendship and went our separate ways – painfully on my part. Obviously we passed in the halls, our eyes averted and our shoulders hunched, but that seemed to be the end of 'Chris and Gordie', the double act in all its forms.

I hung out with Teddy and Verne, though I saw them little as they became more involved with their shop courses. Unfortunately I saw Chris all too often, every time our eyes collided burning my insides viciously. Sometimes I enjoyed the feel of his gaze on my back, but could never bear to turn to face him. Afraid of what I might see in his eyes... knowing we couldn't even be friends. Knowing too much altogether.

People must have wondered about our 'split', but nobody voiced an opinion. Except Janice, of course. I'd asked her out about a week after the episode. She'd seemed surprised, gazing at me for a long minute before nodding hesitantly. I had been glad about that, she was a nice person and I needed a friend around in any form I could obtain.

"It's sad about you and Chris." She said one afternoon. We were at my house, studying on my bed like Chris and I used to.

My head snapped up at the sound of his name, interrupting the monotonous cycle of scientific formulas swirling around in there. "Huh?"

"Y'know, you two not being friends anymore." She looked startled at my obvious change in posture.

"Oh. Yeah." I looked down, mentally cursing myself for being so obviously interested.

She let the subject drop - obviously sensing my reluctance to continue the discussion – but her curiosity was almost tangible in the heat of my stuffy room. I leant over the science book, determined not to give myself away again as the silence lengthened.

Suddenly I felt her fingers sliding down my back. Her hands were warm but I felt a cold shiver run down my spine all the same. I'd known this moment would come. She'd want to become more... physical. I mean hell, we were supposed to be going out, weren't we? I'd been avoiding this concept for as long as I could, but had known it would happen sooner or later.

"Jan..." I turned around to face her on the bed. And she _was_ very pretty. Dark hair, lips thick with gloss, expectant hazel eyes.

"Isn't this what you want?" Her voice was husky. I suppose it was meant to be seductive or something. Her hand was still on my lower back, and I tried to consider the touch objectively. It didn't feel... bad. It certainly didn't hurt. I swallowed, my throat dry.

"Uh..."

She touched my mouth with one finger, the painted nail flush against my chapped lips. Silencing me.

"I know you've been a gentleman, Gordie. And I'm really grateful for that," The sincerity in her face burned into my eyelids and I wanted to throw myself out a window. "But we are together, aren't we? Couldn't we at least hold hands once in a while?"

I didn't know what to do. I loved Janice. I didn't want to hurt her. Maybe I could just grin and bear it. Do whatever necessary to cling to the crutch I'd found in the pretty girl. The girl who would do so much with her life, make a lucky guy so happy one day. I couldn't "break up" with her and stay friends, and I couldn't keep pretending I wanted to fuck her.

"OK, lets hold hands." I tried to bluff my way out of it by appearing oblivious, taking her hand from my mouth and putting it on my sweaty palm. She laughed a sweet, girlish laugh and I felt a flash of horror as I remembered sitting in this exact position with another person. Only their laugh had been deeper and had sent chills running from my toes to my hairline.

She leaned closer, her eyes closing, her lips parted. She really was _so_ beautiful, my Janice. Beautiful in the way that I wanted to capture her optimism, her hopeful eyes, and lock them in my hand to keep me strong when I grieved for Chris. I knew that I had to do something, but _what?_ Lean away, or kiss her?

I thought of a compromise, and leaned in to brush my lips against her cheek. It was soft, and smelled like soap. Not sweaty with tobacco smoke clinging to skin... _That's over. Focus. _I scolded myself for the mental comparison. She smiled, nuzzling closer to me as the schoolbook slipped from the bed and on to the floor. I was suddenly painfully aware of where I was. In my room. Alone. With a hot girl. Wasn't this every guy's fantasy?

I allowed myself to think of Chris for a moment, ignoring the lance of pain that whipped my brain. He was now fucking every girl in sight. Or close enough. It was common knowledge that he'd shacked up with Kerri Brandon, and there were also rumours that he was banging Becky Newton on the side. Obviously I'd just been his little game, his little experiment to test his boundaries before he went gallivanting off to explore Kerri's tissue-stuffed bra. This thought left a particularly bitter taste in my mouth. _But shouldn't I be doing the same?_ I couldn't mope around like a helpless puppy, pining pathetically after my user of a best friend, who was obviously enjoying his new outlet for hormones.

I kissed Janice's lips, the thought of Chris sending angry waves through my body that she might have mistaken for passion. _I would show him. I didn't need him. _I cupped her face as her hands crept up to grasp my shoulders. She was soft, warm, sweet. Weak. I let my mind drift away as she moaned softly in my ear as my lips found her neck. I remembered other kisses. Rough, painful ones that had left bruises and swollen lips.

I allowed the memory of another night in this room flood my mind.

And he was _there._ It wasn't Janice I was holding, but _Chris_. I squeezed him tighter, using all my strength, knowing he would not break as we clinched. I shoved my arms around his neck and bit down hard on his lips, letting out a long moan. God I'd missed this...

I pushed him to the floor, not letting an inch of space separate our bodies as I yanked on his hair, pulling it hard. For once he wasn't in control, _I_ was.

"Gordie!" An outraged shriek and a ringing slap brought me crashing back to earth. I sat bolt upright, looking down at Janice.

She jumped to her feet, her face ashen. Blood dripped from her lower lip and her hair was tangled in a wild disarray. Her clothes were crumpled, her skirt hanging lopsided and half wrenched up. Her eyes were wild and hurt and confused. She looked like a girl who had narrowly escaped being raped.

"Jan.." I moved toward her on my knees, my hands outstretched. Beseeching.

Her hand hit my face again. Hard, but not hard enough. I wanted to crawl away and die.

I just sat there on my knees, listening to the door slam and her footsteps fade away, along with the remains of my sunlight.

**REVIEWW!!!!! NOWWW PLLEEEASEE XX**


	8. Chris: Lies

**A/N: You see what I mean lol? The fewer reviews, the slower the update!! If you want the next chap, REVIEW this one. Don't be greedy lovelies!! I LOVE YOU_X**

_And though my edges may be rough,_

_I never feel I'm quite enough,_

_It may not seem like very much,_

_But I'm yours..._

CHRIS

Every time Kerri Brandon opened her big, fat mouth, I fought the urge to knock the shit-eating grin off her prissy face. I didn't even know why I put up with her anymore. She'd dropped her knickers two days after I asked her out, and the outcome was not particularly wonderful. A few seconds of discomfort and then I was stuck with her incessant ramblings out of guilt. Guilt which I ought not to have felt because she wasn't even a nice person. Just an easy screw with a mouth the size of a small country.

And yet I'd _forced_ myself to kiss her, to touch her... because it was something I had to do. Like a chore or an exam. She'd tried to fuck me again but I'd avoided it ever since. I felt cheap, dirty and used. _Shit,_ wasn't it supposed to be the girl that felt that way? Fuck knows. I just went day by day, counting the seconds until... until nothing. Staring at a certain boy too much, and looking forward to sleep.

One insignificant morning, I walked blearily into Math class and grudgingly sat down in my usual seat next to my 'girlfriend'. The teacher was late, so I looked around as I pulled my book out my bag. I was beginning to really despise the class, since I'd stopped talking to Gordie my grades had fallen dramatically and lessons made no sense anymore. My eyes automatically strayed to the boy in person, where he now sat on the other side of the room. I did a double take when I saw that he was _crying._ His hands were balled into fists which he scrunched into his eyes, and he was shaking. Shaking hard.

Before I'd registered my own actions, I was on my feet. Hurrying towards him, my chair scraping against the floor loudly. Dimly I noticed that he'd shot up a bit recently, maybe he could actually stand up to a girl now.

I wanted to pull him into my chest, stroke his hair and tell him everything would be alright. I stopped fast, spinning around again before I could attract attention. _Stop it! That's gay! _I forced myself back into my chair, turning to face Kerri. She was so self-obsessed she hadn't even noticed my distraction. Quickly I grabbed her face and kissed her, I don't know why... I just did. I guess I wanted to remind myself or something. Or just prove to anyone who'd noticed my weird display. Kerri stuck her tongue in my mouth enthusiastically. _You're not gay you're not gay you're not gay you're not gay!! _I chanted the mantra to myself.

I felt someone brush past me. I didn't have to look to know it was Gordon Lachance. I pulled my mouth away from the vacuous vacuum that was Kerri and hurried after him. _Fuck gay, he's still my best friend. _I tried to justify myself, but the truth was that I just couldn't let him go.

I sprinted to the cubicle door that had just slammed shut behind Gordie.

"Gordo?"

"Fuck off."

"No."

He said nothing, but I heard him sit down on the toilet seat, probably curling his knees into his chest. He'd done that since he was little.

"C'mon, Lachance. Open the fuckin' door you asshole!"

"Nuh-uh. Just fuck off back to your whore."

Some alien part of me joyed at his offensive reference to the girl I was supposed to be dating.

"Open. The. Door."

"NO! Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?! You ain' spoken to me in weeks. GO AWAY!"

"Not gonna happen."

"WHY NOT?" His shout sent echoes reverberating around the bathroom.

"Because I can't! You know I fuckin' can't!" I smashed my foot into the funnel under one of the sinks, splintering the plaster and earning myself a satisfying lash of pain. I was so frustrated.

Whatever he said next was drowned out in the smashing of bathroom fixtures. "I ALWAYS COME BACK FOR YOU." I yelled, stopping and slamming my fist against the barricaded door.

"M-Maybe I don't want you to." Gordie was no longer angry. His voice was quiet, speculative.

"That don't matter." I spat back. Because it didn't, though his words still hurt me somewhere.

I heard the lock slide back and he emerged. Not meeting my gaze, he slid past me and out into the hallway. He was a few paces away from the door when I caught him. Skipping around him so he was facing me.

"Gordie fuckin' Chance!" I swore under my breath, gripping his arm. He looked up, pain and conflict twisting his face.

I sighed, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him hard. Not letting go, I spun us around and kicked the bathroom door back with a thud, propelling us through it. As soon as we were clear, I shoved his worn baseball cap off so I could lock my hands around the back of his head, pulling his face forward.

"Please... don't." His voice was broken as his lips moved an inch away from mine.

"Why the fuck not?" The anticipation hummed between us as I tried to remember what he tasted like.

"I-I ain't no queer."

I laughed darkly. "Me neither." _We don't need to be._

And then there was no space between our lips. I kissed him and felt his hand curl around my jaw, his fingers forming grooves in my cheekbone. He surged me forward, my hip jamming between a couple of sinks as I memorized the feel of his lips again. And the feelings that coursed through me as our mouths fused together. I could taste him on my tongue, that familiar flavour. Intoxicating.

I ran my hands down his back, pulling him closer to me so we were chest to chest, leg to leg. As close as possible. I pulled my tongue from his when I could finally bear to, though the instant our mouths lost contact I felt like I'd lost a vital source of oxygen. I leant my forehead against his as we locked eyes again, both gasping for breath.

"Well..." Gordie murmured. His breath tickled my face.

"Yeah..." I agreed. And kissed him again before he could ruin it. Softly and as slowly as I could manage with my heart thumping so hard. I could spend hours... weeks... _months _kissing him. Exploring his skin with my hands...

Suddenly, he stiffened.

"You fucked the Brandon girl?"

I couldn't look away from his dark, probing eyes. I tried to distract him, bringing my mouth to meet his again. He shoved a finger over my lips, jerking me back.

"Did you?" I could feel his heart fluttering. Or was it mine? We were so close I honestly couldn't tell. I just wanted to be _closer._ So close we could be one person. Feeling each other's pain. But that could never happen, at least... not now.

"Answer me!" He whined.

I threw my arms around him, locking him down and moulding myself to his shape. I buried my nose in his hair, breathing deep to savour it for what I guessed would be the last time.

"Yeah." I whispered it in his ear, hoping that the reaction could be as simple and soft as my tone. When he shuddered, trying to flinch away, I flexed my arms around him. Not letting him move an inch. I was surprised that his reply was cool.

"Thought you had. She's hot." I would have almost believed him, if it hadn't been for the slight crack in his voice at the end.

"Yeah." I said mechanically. _What the fuck?_

"I was thinkin' 'bout fuckin' Janice, y'know? She's cute an' I gotta get it outta the way sometime." He sounded false. Dead.

I felt myself choke slightly, bile rising in my throat. Luckily he couldn't see my face, we were shoved so tightly together in the small space. Locked in our little toxic embrace. Our little bubble of hate and kisses. But I think we both knew we had to continue this bravado if we were gonna do this, otherwise we'd go insane.

"Y-yeah."

I didn't really mind that he was considering having sex with a girl. Not when I knew he'd think of me, as I had done on those nights with Kerri. We were normal guys, right? Like it was fucking normal to shag girls and picture your fucking best friend? We had to convince ourselves it was.

I ran my lips along his collarbone, deciding to be as honest as I could while still playing the game.

"I mean, I like goin' with Kerri an' all," _Like hell you do! _"But Jesus, it ain't nothin' like this. Fuckin' her ain' nothing like... fighting with you."

"Naw, sure ain't man." He agreed.

"This happen to other kids?" I wondered aloud.

"Fuck knows. Probably." He comforted us both but it didn't really convince either of us.

"Look," I said, "We can't do this much anymore. If this is gonna work we're gonna have to stop these," I gestured to our clinch and the space around us, "... episodes. It's too risky here in school."

"Then why the fuck did you jump on me, shithead?"

"Impulse. I needed to."

He smiled grimly. "Can't we just... be? So what if we're... I dunno, different? We know we ain't fags. People might accept it as an experiment. I mean, jeez, Chris, I'm sick of hiding." He didn't sound hopeful.

We both thought of Austin Moran, the guy who'd come out as gay at our school a few months ago. He'd been chased out of town by a mob of angry staff and pupils, and I'm afraid me and Gordie had been part of the group (as was his mother).

Faggot was just... wrong. Shoving your dick up a guy's ass? Nasty. We'd jeered and called him names and even chucked a few rocks at him until his scrawny ass disappeared . He now lived in a little shack on the border, fucking any guy who asked for it so he could feel whole. There were no open gays in the area but who knew what happened behind closed doors? Everyone knew he was there, and he still got beat up a lot. But it was now rumoured that he slept with a machete under his pillow to fend off Ace Merril and the Cobras when they got particularly nasty.

"You know that ain't gonna happen." I sighed, rocking Gordie from side to side.

"It wouldn't matter if they kicked us out. We'd be able to go somewhere no one knows us. Get jobs and shit."

I could see the picture Gordie painted. And he made me want it. Want it _bad_. What had I to lose? But I knew we just couldn't.

"We can't, Gordo. Don't ya see? We ain' pansie. This is just some freak-ass hormonal stage that's ragging on us. Bet it happens to everyone. If we left we'd just get sick of each other and we'd have lost everythin' anyways. Naw, its better we stay as we are. We can get together outside once in a while but people are gonna start getting suspicious if this keeps happenin'."

"Right, let me get this straight." I laughed dimly at his unintended pun. He stepped back, fire in his eyes. "You want me as your freakin' _fuck buddy?_" He didn't sound happy. Hell, I wasn't either.

"Um, I dunno...Yeah?"

He shook his head, and slammed out of the bathroom, swearing about that 'good for nothing Chambers kid' as he stalked down the corridor. This time, I didn't follow him.

***

More time passed, almost as painfully as before. We stuck to our 'straight' routine, me suffering Kerri's sickly lips and inane chatter while Gordie skulked around hating everything. We saw each other occassionally, me sneaking into his stifling bedroom from time to time. That was the only place we could let our guards down. I could wrap him in my arms and rock our hips together while I sucked on his tongue. We never went further than that though, because to be honest neither of us knew what the hell to do. Plus we were totally in denial at the same time.

I could tell Gordie hated the arrangement, being the dirty little secret. I, on the other hand, found it oddly thrilling to hide behind a mask. I liked that he so obviously belonged to me. That I was the only person in the world who could make him groan with pleasure. The only person who knew that there was a certain place on his neck that he liked to be touched. It made me feel powerful, because Gordie – looking at him – seemed the epitome of innocence and elegance. Hell, maybe not elegance... but something about his small features and pouty mouth made me eerily protective and almost aggressive. I wanted those things for myself. And nobody else could have him because he belonged to me, right? He put up with me mindlessly screwing a girl to support my 'image'. Though in his defence I'm sure he knew the only way I could do it was watching the picture of him next to my bed. We'd taken it by the river one lazy afternoon, Gordie has his mouth open and his eyes far away. That is how I remember that summer.

But I missed him. Missed him so desperately sometimes I had to stop myself from lunging at him in the hallways. Once, I couldn't resist.

"Ah! Chris?! What the fu-"

After sweeping a glance round at the empty corridor, I slammed him into a locker and kissed him until neither of us could breathe. When we'd managed to get oxygen flowing again, I made to pull away.

"Chris, you can't act like that didn't just happen."

I looked at him confusedly as I straightened my clothes and ran a hand through my hair. "I know it did."

"What, so you're just going to walk off now? Back to your girlfriend and ignore me for the rest of the day?" His voice was so hurt I couldn't stop myself from running a hand over his chest in comfort.

"It's all I can do." I said softly, moving back before I could get too wrapped up in him.

"Ah, fuck! I hate this! Is that all I am to you? Your cheap little slut?"

I stood stock still, frozen as I computed what he had just said. Because the sad thing was he was right, I was treating him like shit. He'd offered me a chance to be with him properly and I'd turned it down for fuck's sake. But at the time I only saw what I wanted to see, and I lashed out.

"Yeah. Maybe you are. And don't act like you don't fuckin' love it."

"Well I don't. Y'know what, Chambers? I don't think I wanna do this anymore. You're a bastard. A total fucking bastard with shit for brains. I gave you a proper chance and you just threw it back in my face. So go on, Mr. Cock, hurry home to your 'girlfriend' if that's what you want. But when she's sweating below you, I know you'll be thinking of me."

This cracked like a whip between us, starting up that familiar electricity. But now it was harsher, louder. It seemed to hum through my veins, stinging me fiercely with every step I took away from Gordie.

"Maybe I don't think of you! Maybe I think of _her _when I'm with _you_! Maybe I just took pity on my poor fag of a friend and decided to fuck him up a little?"

We just stood there. Taking in the secrets and the lies. Committing them to memory.

Gordie leaned back against the wall, lowering his head wearily and rubbing a hand across his eyes.

"Can't do this no more, man. Too fuckin' hard."

"NEVER say that." I grabbed his face and kissed him on the mouth for a slow second that was far too quick, and was then gone before anything else could be said.

**OK. I have a secret for the next one! Its going to be BIG. The biggest chap yet. I've written it already, but I want some reviewwws please!! I need to know what you guys think. I know it all seems the same atm, repeating... but things change a lot in the next one. i'm afraid its almost over!! if you like anything in this partic, copy and paste a quote into your review! you're beautiful and ily and wooo! **xx

**P.S The next is from CHRIS' POV too!! **


	9. Chris: Walking Away

**THANK YOU for supporting me. Do you want them to be together? LOOONGGG reviews rule!! and thanks so much for the quotes!! If everyone reviews this i'll give you a cyber cookie and maybe throw in a LEMON? do you want that?? idk if i can do it lol. xxxx**

_I may not have the softest touch,_

_May not say the words as such..._

CHRIS

Nevertheless, Gordie continued to put up with my crap. To this day I don't know why. Unfortunately our couplings were all too infrequent, as Kerri had started insisting on staying in my room with me night after night. And when we _were t_ogether we never spoke. Never voiced our opinions or ideas or bantered like we used to. Seeing each other was an escape, a chance to hold on to a temporary life raft, but it was never enough. As life got more difficult, I tried to push Gordie further in the sweet, guilty solitude of his bed. My fingers would curl around his hips or encircle his waistband, but he would always push me away. This both angered and confused me but as I said... we never spoke. It was sick but felt so right.

Sex with Kerri was purely 'physical'. I could just about manage it but felt no emotional connection with the girl who screamed so loud, panting and sweating. Frankly I found it mildly horrifying to be linked to her at all. At night, I dreamt of Gordie as she lay naked beside me. I imagined I would like to hear him make the sounds she did. Problem was, he wasn't as easy. _And I wasn't a fag, right? _I usually woke in the early hours of the morning. And sometimes the pillow was wet, sometimes the sheets. Kerri – her unobservant vanity never failed to amaze me – assumed that sex with her was what made me so emotional. Whenever we fucked, I zoned out and imagined she was someone else. Yeah, you can guess who. Apparently I could've made a career in acting.

I didn't know if Gordie had fucked a girl, but could never bring myself to ask him. It's not like I really cared about that aspect of his life, the aspect that included _girls_. Any moments we had together were silent, careful not to wake his parents. I just held him to my chest, savouring moments and counting seconds. I felt him up in his clothes, trying to commit every line of his body to memory. It was as if we both felt_ it_ coming, though neither knew what to look for.

The bombshell hit a few weeks after the scene in the bathroom. A few weeks of me enjoying the thrill of playing with Gordie. I slammed into his room at four in the morning one night (I'd long since worked out a way of pushing the window in just the right spot). As I stepped off the sill, shutting the glass behind me hastily, I could feel his eyes on me. I turned, and saw he was sitting up on his bed with his knees pulled to his chest. I ignored this, pulling my shirt off. I was half way out of my jeans when he spoke.

"Stop." I was startled by his speaking. As I mentioned, these were usually silent affairs. I stopped, looking at him carefully.

"What?"

"Look," He ran a nervous hand through his messy hair. "I don't wanna do this anymore," My heart beat a crazy conga in my chest, "I don't like being the whore when you're girlfriend's the one with clothes to fit a puppet."

I closed my eyes and groaned.

"What the fuck do you want me to do, huh? I've already made so many sacrifices for you…"

"Sacrifices?! What? You mean it's a freakin' sacrifice for you to be here? Wow, Christopher fuckin' Chambers, the fucking Saint. What are you giving up exactly? You've got me to give you hard-ons and the Brandon bitch between your legs. Sounds absolutely fuckin' perfect to me."

"AGHH!" I slammed a fist against the edge of the bedframe. Luckily it was a Friday so his parents were visiting his Aunt for the weekend.

"That's right, Chambers, destroy my furniture. That'll make you feel a whole lot better." His voice was miserable.

I grabbed his face and shoved my mouth against his. I was very shocked when he bit my tongue! I yowled and sprang back against the wall, glaring at him as I swallowed the blood in my mouth.

"Bastard! What the fuck did you do that for?"

"That ain't gonna work anymore, Chris." He stood up, and put his arms around my waist. I forced myself to flinch away even though I didn't want to.

"What?"

"This mindless shit. You think _that _is going to make things OK? It doesn't mean anything if you don't want it to. I want _all of you_, Chris. Not just your tongue occasionally."

"Uhh! Not this again! Let me make this absolutely clear!" I pulled him around, shoving his head toward mine so we were eye to eye. He didn't flinch, searching my face carefully.

"I-AM-STRAIGHT." Each word sent a small spray of spit over his face. He didn't try to wipe it away, just stared me down as my fingers dug grooves into his shoulder blades. "I like doing it with WOMEN. Hell, I LOVE it! And the only reason I'm standing here right now is 'cuz I got nothing better to do. QUIT deluding yourself. I'm not gonna wake up one day and suddenly be queer like you!"

I shoved him away from me. He sighed and sat down on the bed as I pulled my clothes on. As I was opening the window he said softly, "You kissed me first, Christopher. Don't you ever forget that."

I walked away.

A couple of days later, I was in class with Kerri, bored out of my mind and contemplating my chances of escaping. I hadn't seen Gordie since the showdown and I missed him. I figured I'd go back to his room that night and climb into bed with him. He would take me back, he had no choice.

Everything was normal until we heard a ruckuss coming from outside. Mr Morton – our hung-over teacher – didn't object as the whole class simultaneously stampeded into the hall. He just put his head down on the desk, clutching his coffee cup and putting his hands over his ears.

I followed the group out lazily. _I mean, anythin's better than double french, right?_ I expected another scuffle over lunch money or another humiliation of Isacc B. Heinestroff III, (an exchange student the size of a house) but stopped stock still when I heard the shouting.

"Fag!"

"Homo!"

"Ass-fucker!"

I pushed a little further down the hall, shoving towards the front of the group. Gordie was pressed up against the wall, his arms over his face as the school's meanest bullies beat down on him.

"Bender!"

"Freak!"

"Cock-sucker!"

Each insult was punctuated by a hard blow to my friend's body. He just crouched there, taking it. He probably knew that fighting back would only make it worse. I recognised the three ugly guys. Henry Maddens, Josh Christoe and Martin Lawson. They were trainee Cobras who ran around after Ace like puppies. They picked on everyone over everything, and they fought _dirty._ They continued to punch Gordie with their fists and words as I surged closer.

"What the fuck happened?" I heard Kerri ask a random girl excitedly.

"Maddens saw that kid Lachance comin' outta _Austin Moran's _place."

"_Moran's?_ No shit. Never pegged him for a fag. Guess he does have stupid hair..." Her voice drifted off as she maliciously gossiped with her friend.

Gordie had been to MORAN'S? _What... the... fuck? _I stopped again, my brain frozen. Everything seemed to move in s-l-o-w motion. I watched them punch my... my... my friend once. Twice. Three times.

He'd been to _Moran's._ He'd fucked a guy. A fucking boy! A MALE. He'd no doubt had that skanky kid's cock up his ass. He'd probably whined and groaned just like I'd imagined. _The dirty fag. The disgusting homo slut._

Unaware I'd still been in motion, I suddenly found myself at the front of the crowd. Gordie was sprawled a few feet away from me.

"Get the FUCK away from him!" Janice Cartwright barrelled forward, shoving past me to get between Gordie and the guys. She squared up to the leader. "Y'hear me? MOVE your ugly behind!"

Why wasn't I moving? It wasn't _her_ job to protect Gordie. It was mine! _Wasn't it?_ Suddenly I didn't know. He'd kissed another guy... held him like he'd held me. He'd freakin' _fucked_ him. I didn't give a shit if he shagged every girl in state, but him even touching another guy left me cold. Weak at the knees. Sick. On the verge of_ tears_. How long had this been going on? Had he been sneaking round to Moran's for secret fucks before our friendship even ended? Hell, even before our first kiss in the street? While I'd touched him, had he been picturing that shit-faced son of a whore? I tried to rid the image from my vision, but it seemed to be burned behind my eyes...

Three desires twisted my insides. I wanted to run in and push Janice out of the way, not to protect her but to take my rightful place as Gordie's protector and best friend… and whatever the fuck else I was. I also wanted to run in there and join the beating. I wanted to hurt him because he was a dirty fucker who'd slept with some nobody who wasn't me. And he was a homo, and _homo is just plain wrong._ I shuddered, my body vibrating with conflicting emotions.

"CHRIS!" Janice stared at me, expecting me to _do _something. That girl new too fucking much. I wanted to move, but stayed still. Immobile.

"Get out the way, Jan." Gordie sat up slightly, blood pouring from his mouth as he tried to push her away. She didn't move.

"Don't hurt her." He said to Maddens.

"Aww, the queer's Momma has come to the rescue." Lawson crooned in a high-pitched falsetto. His spotty, pug-like face screwed up so it looked almost as ugly as normal. Gordie spat a gobful of blood on to the waxed floor, not taking his eyes off the leader.

Maddens pushed Janice away, advancing on Gordie again. Maddens' girlfriend – she was almost as grotesque as he was – pulled Janice's arms behind her back so she couldn't move as the bully leered down at Gordie.

"You're nothin'…" Maddens raised a fist, his two goons moving in to stand close behind him as he advanced. "But a little pussy-arsed…"

Something familiar rumbled in my chest. I vaguely remembered feeling the same way at the age of 12…and 13… and 14… whenever Gordie got in trouble…

"COCKSUCKER!"

Maddens' arm slammed upwards, fist crashing towards Gordie's nose, but I was quicker. I knocked his arm away with all the force in my body, sending him crashing flat-backed to the floor. None of his friends squared up to me. I mean, I was a Chambers kid, I probably had a knife or gun stashed somewhere.

"Fuck off, Maddens." I said. "Gordie ain't no queer. Musta been your Dad you saw." This was hardly the most eloquent insult, but it sure got Maddens mad. He was off the floor in seconds, before Gordie's voice stopped him.

Now, if you're thinking Gordie was trying to save me from Maddens at this point, then you are very, very wrong.

"Piss off, Chris," He spat. "I don't need you, y'hear?"

As I stared at him disbelievingly, he got up and pushed me aside roughly, back towards Kerri. He addressed the crowd in a steady voice, standing up straight as blood dried on the corner of his mouth.

"That's right! I'm a fuckin' queer. An ass-fucker. Bender. Pansie. Cocksucker. Call me whatever the hell you want because it's all true! Hell yes I was with Moran. He does _wonderful_ things with his tongue!" There was an audible gasp, and a few people shrank back like he was contagious.

Gordie turned to Maddens, who's mouth and eyes were wide.

"How about it, sweetie? You fancy a ride? Reckon I'm not as good as Moran but a cock's a cock, right?"

"I-I don't know what you're…" Maddens' voice cracked.

"No? Then how did you see me? Bet you were waitin' outside for your turn."

"Th-that.. that's a lie." He looked to his mates for help but nothing came.

Gordie was the one advancing now, moving towards Maddens who was backing away a little. He licked his lips mockingly, wiggling his hips and laughing. Though his eyes stayed cold, focused and devoid of all emotion.

Then, so fast I barely clocked what was happening, Gordie grabbed Maddens' face and pulled his lips to his. Maddens tried to shake him off, but somehow (I don't know how) my scrawny friend clung on tight. He shoved his tongue past the boy's lips, grabbing his jaw with his little fingers and half spitting all over him. Half a second later, Maddens reeled backward as Gordie shoved him away, and was off down the corridor before anyone could process it. There were red scratches on his jaw line and his eyes were streaming.

You probably could have heard a pin drop at that moment, it was so quiet. Gordie wiped a hand across his mouth and spat on the floor again, shuddering like he was trying to get the taste of Maddens out of his mouth. His breathing was ragged as he looked from face to face. Looked at everyone except me. Then, after a long moment, he picked up his bag and began to walk away. Not hurrying, just ambling like he was off to a picnic or something. Only his slightly shaking shoulders gave him away as he moved off. His footsteps were loud in the silence.

Janice suddenly broke away from the shellshocked girl.

"Gordie?!" He didn't answer, just strolled toward the doors. There, he turned and looked at me for the first time.

"Comin', Chris?" He actually held his hand out. I looked around at the gathered students, who's mouths were all agape. I'd imagine mine was the same.

I turned, and walked shakily back to the classroom. Not answering him with words, but giving him the message anyway.

**pleeease review. love it, hate it..?**


	10. Gordie: Pain

**Have ya missed me? I'm sorry! My computer went mad but now I'm back for good. Ofc its not quite over yet, but it is drawing to a close soon I'm afraid gorgeousnesses! I may do a sequel if y'all are extra nice! :D REVIEWS ARE LOVE xxxxx**

_And though I may not look like much,_

_I'm yours..._

GORDIE

I slammed the door so hard I was surprised that it didn't break. All the way home I'd walked, head down, with my eyes averted as I fought those stupid faggy tears. _They were the reason he didn't want me. _That and the fact I was a boy.

But, he _had _wanted me. That's what made it the worst. If he hadn't kissed me that one fateful night, none of this would have happened. I hadn't realised at the time, but at that moment everything had changed. Seriously changed. It was more than the brush of lips on lips. A little 'experimentation' to make your childhood more interesting. At least, never to me.

Storming up the stairs at a height of rage I'd never experienced, I slammed into the room on my left and let myself go. Tears streamed desperately down my hot cheeks as I buried my face in Denny's carpet. It was the same as when he'd been alive. Blue, with the faint smell of cigarette smoke and mint. Denny's smell. Denny, the only person in the whole world who had ever given a shit about me. Would Denny care I was a fag? Probably, but he wouldn't have turned his back on me. He'd probably have thought of a way of curing me, he was smart that way.

I sort of noticed when the sky outside began to darken. It wouldn't be long until my parents got home from wherever the fuck they went during the daytimes. Slowly, I got up and loped to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water. The droplets clung to my sweaty skin, but it didn't change the burning feel I had behind my eyes. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. Afraid of what I'd see.

My Mum got in around eight, to find me spread out on the couch staring brazenly at an old magazine. We talked mechanically about my schoolwork, I ate some re-heated turkey stew that tasted like cardboard and said goodnight without registering what was coming out of my mouth. My Dad didn't turn up at all during the proceedings, probably off getting drunk with the rest of the nobodies.

When I was sure my mother was asleep, I crept downstairs to bolt the door. I knew there would most likely be some bastards baying for my blood that night, and couldn't be bothered dealing with the aggravation. This done, I strode back up the stairs and crept into Denny's room again. And - balling up on my side - fell asleep on his bed because it was the only place I felt safe. Sleeping in the unchanged room of my long-dead brother - Healthy.

The next day was uneventful. School was out of the question - now they were over the initial shock, there was no way I'd get out of there alive - and why would I want to go there anyway? _Homos ain't fit for work. _Around five there was a knock at the front door.

"Gordie?"

I recognised Janice's voice immediately, but wasn't sure I wanted to talk to her. After a moment, I conceived that - after the incident in my room - I owed her a conversation.

Sighing, I slung the latch up and opened the door to see her looking surprised. Hurriedly, as if she were worried I'd change my mind, she shimmied past me and took a seat on the stairs. I shut the door and turned to face her.

"So?" I looked at her as she took in my appearance. I was in the same clothes I'd had on yesterday and my hair was in a filthy disarray.

"Jesus, Gordie. You look like shit. Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fantastic, Janice. Thanks for asking."

She ignored my blatant sarcasm. "I missed you at school." She picked at her fingernails.

"What did you expect me to do?"

"Not this! I thought if you were gonna… you know, tell people, you'd be a man about it. Take it on the chin."

"A man? That's a joke. Ain't you figured it out yet, girl? I'm not a man."

She looked at me confusedly. "Um… of course you are. You have _boy _parts." She blushed in a girlish way.

I sighed again, shifting to sit beside her on the threadbare step.

"Things can't be the same, you know. I'm a fag, you get that right?"

"There ain' no such thing as 'fag'. You're just a boy who loves a boy. That's it."

"Love? What are you talking about? I don't love anyone!"

"Oh, pleeeease, Gordie. Spare me! Its been obvious from the beginning! I was stupid to think you ever liked me."

"I-I…"

"Did you really have sex with this Moran guy?"

I looked down at my feet. "That's none of your business."

"You're right. But if you did then you know you did it for the wrong reasons. He's not the one you want."

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I FUCKING WANT!" My shout was louder than I'd intended, and I saw a flicker of fear in her wide eyes. A reminder of that horrific scene in my room. I regretted it instantly, reaching over to brush her arm. "I-I'm sorry. I just…. I-I don't know, y'know? And anyways, Chris don't want me and I guess he's a prick anyhow."

"Ah, give him time." Janice smiled a little, "If I've learnt one thing about you guys its that you aren't secure in ANYTHING at all. This is hard for him. Just let him come around to it."

"And its not hard for me? Jan, I just fucking outed myself to the entire student populus. Sides, I don't think you realize how long this has been goin' on. He's been using me as his fuck-buddy slut for the last few weeks. I just couldn't take it any more. I thought there was a chance he might choose me over his pride… Guess I was wrong."

Janice grabbed my hand and squeezed. Hard. "You can't give up on him, Gordie! You just can't! This is gonna be difficult enough for him without losing you, too."

"What's gonna be difficult for him? I didn't fucking out him so he's safe. He can continue to grope the Brandon bitch to his heart's content."

"You haven't heard?" She stood up, her eyes even wider. "Oh, God, Gordie. I thought you knew. Or would have guessed…"

"Huh?"

"Everyone noticed when he defended you! So of course the word has spread to the rest of the Chambers family. You see what that means?"

I nearly choked. What had I done?

"H-his Dad…"

"And brother nonetheless. Saw him in school today, every inch of him black and blue. I was surprised he could walk."

I put a hand over my mouth. I'd done this to Chris! He was getting beaten to a bloody pulp because I was too much of a pansie faggot to take the fact we had to be a secret. I ran a hand through my hair, struggling not to be sick.

Janice stood up, laying a steady hand on my shaking shoulder. "Gordie? Gordie, its alright. He can take it, he's strong. But he needs you to help him through it."

I swallowed. My brain awash with a foul mix of horror and self-loathing. _Selfish selfish selfish…_

"Why hasn't anyone come after me yet? I swear they ran Moran out of town for a smaller performance."

"I think everyone's still a little shellshocked. Maddens didn't come into school, so everyone thinks he's sly too. Oh, and I did kinda tell everyone you ran out of town."

"Oh. Wow. Thanks, Jan"

We stood in the hallway for a few more seconds. Janice ran a hand through her hair, which was slipping out of its long plait.

"I just… can't deal with him anymore. He is such a bastard." I fiddled with my fingers agitatedly.

"Look, Gordie. Are you really surprised? Did you really expect Chris to come out and be all proud? He's grown up surrounded by 'bastards'. He's been bread to hate what he is."

"Like my family is so fucking perfect!"

Janice glanced around at the empty, colourless house.

"Maybe not. But that doesn't make it any easier for Chris."

I sighed, sniffing to hold back _more _tears. _Jesus, I was turning into such a wet fuck._

I'd been a selfish prick. A _rotten, _selfish prick. I hadn't once considered the effect things were having on Chris. I'd assumed that he'd liked playing around with me, but in fact the opposite was true. The whole thing confused him and made him want to hit something. Why hadn't I seen that? Or didn't I know him at all?

"Jesus, Jan. I should go see him, right?"

"I can't tell you what to do."

"What if he hurts me again?"

"Then you lose nothing. I know I've defended him today, but his background doesn't excuse all his actions. You two need to come to some sort of compromise. I'm sure you can work things out."

"Aw, Janice. Why can't everyone be like you?"

She shrugged. "I have more brain cells than a lot of people. Plus I _am_ totally awesome."

"Hell yes you are," I pulled her into a one-armed hug. "I love you, Jan. You do know that, right? And I'm sorry for this shit I caused with you. I didn't mean to use you."

"Yeah, you did, honey. But don't worry, I'm _sooooo _over you. I happen to have my eye on another boy."

"Anyone I know?"

"Do you know Teddy DuChamp?"

I laughed.

***

When Janice had gone - we'd spent a couple of hours dissecting Teddy's eyebrow movements, which had totally bored me - I stood by my open door feeling queasy. You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach? Half excitement… half nervousness? Yeah, I had that.

Chris was at home, probably beaten black and blue. And it was all my fault. I'd been childish, only thinking about myself. But Janice was right, _he shouldn't have treated me like that._

I walked back into my house, and climbed back into bed. I fell asleep easily, not sure I wanted the dreams that were going to come to me.

I shuddered awake at about three a.m. I wiped a hand across my bleary eyes, not knowing what had woken me. _Then_ it hit me. A sharp pain lancing in my chest. Thrumming loudly in time with my heart. It was wrenching, something pulling and twisting my guts out row by row. I doubled over in pain, not knowing what the fuck was going on.

Slowly, the feeling subsided. But I didn't sleep again that night. Instead, I climbed out of my window and out into the cool grass. Barefoot, I ventured up to the road. I must have looked ridiculous, in jeans and no shirt. It was raining - but not hard, just a little drizzle. I enjoyed the feeling, like it was washing me off and making me clean again.

I'd barely registered where I was going before I felt my feet stop outside the Chambers front porch. Eyeball's hateful dog - Rucky - was sleeping deeply outside the door. I crept around the back of the house, hearing voices echoing from Chris' bedroom. Why were they yelling at three o'clock in the freaking morning?

The words became distinct as I moved closer.

"I will NOT tolerate a fag in my family!" Eyeball Chambers. _The son-of-a whore._

"Yeah, you measly little ass-fuck!" Ace! What the-

"Get the FUCK out!" And Chris' Dad.

Touche. So much for family values. He sounded dog-drunk too.

"D-Dad…" Chris' voice was muffled and distorted. I wondered if there was blood in his mouth.

"He's not moving, is he boys? Right, I suggest you THROW him out."

"Da- Da.. No.."

I heard some moving and crashing around, and realized what was happening. Those louts were going to _throw him out the window!_

"I WON'T HAVE A FAG IN MY FAMILY!"

Chris hit the ground.

Hard.

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	11. Gordie: Knowing

**Hello, is anyone alive out there?**

**I am so sorry I haven't written this little story in so many, many months. I have recently been diagnosed with hypoglycemia and it has taken a lot of my time up. I was really low for a long time so its take a little while for me to gain some weight and get my strength up into writing again. I have had some requests backed up, asking me to continue, so here I am - much too late, but still hoping enough of you have this on Story Alert that you might let me know what you think? I think my writing has improved quite a lot, but God knows, you might hate me now.**

**Anyway, here it is. There's more to come if you guys tell me you want it. This is dedicated to anyone who likes it.**

_I never feel I'm quite enough_

GORDIE

I mean, come on, its not the first time Chris Chambers had taken a fall.

So I was relieved when he bounced back after a few moments of me frantically shaking his shoulders whilst simultaneously trying not to make any noise. I instinctively knew things would only get worse if Mr. Chambers saw us down here. It wasn't the first time Eyeball and his cronies had joined in with an assault on Chris, but judging by the marks on his skin these attacks had been on and off all day. There was a cut still oozing blood just beneath his hairline, a nasty bruise beneath the hollow of his left eye. Who knows how many cuts and scrapes and, fuck, _burns _were hidden beneath the layers of clothing? I ran quiet hands over his neck, checking his pulse. Thank God the window had only been first story. Enough to shake him up, but nothing that would kill him.

He came to after a couple whispered calls of his name. His eyes were dazed, off focus. Old water collected sickeningly in the corners and blood slipping gruesomely over his face. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my shirt and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Chris was alright, he was alive…

"Gordie?" Stunned by his fall, Chris was somehow forgetting the necessity to remain deadly silent. I could hear his Dad and the other guys moving around above us, probably cracking open more beer as they laughed raucously at some disgusting comment. I ran a shaky hand through Chris' matted hair, anger boiling in my chest and all the way down to the pit of my stomach.

"Shhh, Chris. Shh, its okay. God, man. I'm so sorry… So sorry." I murmured, slowly straightening up and forcing him into a sitting position. He mewled painfully when I moved his left arm.

"Ahh, it hurts, Gord-iiiie, it hurts…" At least his voice was a little softer now.

"I know, I know, man. But its gonna be okay." I soothed him, wishing I had a bottle of whiskey or something to numh the pain. Who knows how many bones he'd damaged?

Delirious with pain, Chris started babbling as I managed to somehow force his good arm around my neck and haul us both to our feet. Must have been adrenaline or some shit because usually there was nothing I could do to budge him. I guess he'd lost weight in recent months.

"Gordie, man, I sure am shit sorry… Ugh, I didn't fucking mean…. you know I… you know I-"

"Shh, Chris. It's alright, I get it. Just be quiet so I can get you the fuck home and cleaned up."

"Awww, Gordie. Always look, ahh, l-lookin' out for me.."

"Yeah. Now shut up."

In hindsight I guess it would have been better to keep him talking, keep him functioning so he wouldn't go batshit crazy or something, but I was so terrified of his Dad coming after us I shoved a gentle hand over his mouth and staggered off back through the trees and on to the dirt road. He closed his eyes, grimacing.

When we were far enough away I was sure no one would hear us, I pulled him into the treehouse with me and laid him out across the old wooden floor that we had long outgrown. This scenario was all too familiar a reminder of our childhood. Chris with cuts and bruises and sprained bones, looking for comfort which I gave in the form of filched beer, wooden splints and shy one-armed hugs. Now I could barely do better. I leaned over him, grimacing and forcing eye contact. His arm stuck outwards at a nasty angle I'd only had to deal with once before. We'd been thirteen and he'd fallen out of a tree and I'd had to pop his right shoulder back in. He'd screamed so loud he'd made Verne scream too, and that was with alcohol as anaesthetic.

"Okay, Chris, I gotta move your arm. I think its been knocked out the socket or some fuck, and I need to pop it back in. Its gonna hurt like hell and I'm sorry, but you gotta trust me okay?"

"Trust you, man."

"You ready?"

"Fuck no." This sounded more like the Chris I knew.

"I'm gonna put my hand in your mouth, alright? Bite down on it."

"Gordie, what?"

"Just do it, Chris. Or we'll be in a lot worse shit than we are now."

"Ahh, Gordie. If it hurts you gotta kiss it better."

I laughed dryly at that, he was definitely delirious but I told myself I could hear that distant hint of my old friend, the cocky bastard. He didn't fight me as I shoved the skin of my left hand between his lips.

"Ready?"

I didn't wait for a reply and went for it, closed my fist over that protruding length of bone and tugged it in the right direction. Chris' teeth sank hard into my hand and drew blood as I felt something give beneath the skin. Seemed I'd hit the right spot because when I ran a hand over his arm it felt normal, solid. But, boy, would it be bruised.

Glancing at Chris' face, I fought my instinct to cry out and instead leant over him. His eyes were screwed up in pain. His good hand moved up to clench on my cold bare back, pulling me downwards as if for comfort. I leant in, gave in because he was hurting and he needed me and I needed him just as much.

"S'over, Chris. S'all right now."

It wasn't a total lie. His arm would heal, he'd live through the physical shit. But other than that, I might as well have told him santa was going to appear and shit fairies over his bloodstained face. He made an unintelligible grunting noise and his mouth fell slack, allowing me to ease my aching hand out and wipe it on the wood of the floor. It was damp, but not soaking.

Funny, I hadn't even realised it had stopped raining.

"I'm sorry." And when I said it, it wasn't just for the pain I'd inflicted when I'd shoved his shoulder. I meant for getting him into this situation in the first place, _ever._

I was still awkwardly perched over Chris, knees either side of his calves as I strained not to injure him while he held me fast, like he'd be pulling me down if he wasn't so sleep deprived. His eyes drifted open, still hazy but laced with pain which far spanned that of a dislocated shoulder.

"Gordie, I-"

"Shhh."

I carefully moved his abused arm - it was lolling uselessly with dead weight - and laid it carefully away from his body so it spanned out at an angle. I didn't want him lying on it. Then I carefully shimmied out of his lax hold on my skin, moving to perch on my knees by his head. He looked at me again, lips moving even as a traumatic cry for sleep moved over his body, a product of exhaustion. His body saying enough was enough.

"Gotta sleep now, Chambers. I'll still be around when you wake up. We can talk then. Stay still."

But he refused, weakly struggling. A light sheen formed on his forehead.

"I meant it." He said, his voice almost a growl as he radiated some kind of need, frustration.

"What?"

"Kiss. It. Better."

"Chris, _what?_"

"I'm _hurt, _Gordie."

And he was. Because of me.

So, wordlessly, I bent my head and pressed a kiss to his mouth, not the area he'd specified but I knew the one he intended. It wasn't like I didn't want to.

When I moved my head back, Chris was dead asleep.

***

When I woke, we were still cramped in our old treehouse where we had pretty much begun whatever we were. I was damp around the edges and looked up to see Chris watching me, blue eyes conscious and lucid in the grey light of the early morning.

He was still here, I thought numbly. Hadn't booked it and run off in the middle of the night.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, I broke the silence.

"How's your arm?"

"Hurts like a bitch." He cleared his throat roughly, ran a sleepy finger across his face. In that moment he looked young enough to spark off so much déjà vu it made my head spin. Years of bruises and checks for damage and hugs that were halted for fear of broken bones.

We said nothing for a few minutes. All I could hear was the scuffle and squawk of irritable birds nesting in the trees.

"You're still here." We said at the same time. And this jinx would normally have resulted in a catcall, laugh or at least a grim smile - but now only matching sad grimaces.

"We're getting too old for this." Chris said, looking around. Somehow I didn't think he was merely referring to the treehouse.

"I know." I agreed, because it seemed like a good way to fill the tense air.

Chris bit the bullet because of the two of us he has more balls.

"You saved me."

"Saved you? Christ, Chambers, you've lived through worse without my help."

"You came and picked me up off the floor and made me better."

"Yeah. And you nearly broke my fucking hand."

And then he was suddenly _there_, how I don't know; he must have still been in quite a bit of pain, but he _was_. Picking up my hand - which still had teeth marks and smeary dried blood imbedded in the skin - and running his rough palm over it.

"Yeah. Guess I did."

He stared at our hands, not at my face.

"Chris-"

"I know, Gordo. I know."

"What the fuck happened last night?"

"Same as always. My Dad was on a mean streak and my brother's mates helped him out."

"I heard what they were saying."

"Makes no difference. Would have happened anyway."

"But-"

"This isn't your fault, Gordie. They would have found out sooner or later. Wouldn't have been able to stay away from you forever. Probably've shoved you on the floor in a corridor and fucked you senseless if you'd kept up the silent treatment."

I gasped, the bluntness of his speaking made my head spin. I really wanted to say something, but at the look he gave me I shut my mouth. He swallowed, as if fighting some instinct that gnawed at him from the inside. I caught a glimpse of his Dad pass across his face. Downturned mouth, ferocious eyes that made me want to flinch back.

But then he was Chris again. "Look, I gotta say I'm sorry for everything I've, uh, done to you. Fucking around with that girl wasn't ever enough and we both know that. But I just couldn't… couldn't do it, you know? You were all there and holding your fucking hand out and what did you expect, Gordie? What the fuck did you expect?"

He lifted his eyes to mine, not so much angry but pleading with me to understand.

"I don't know."

"It's not that I don't care, Gordie. Can't you fucking see that? I'd fucking kill for you, die for you a thousand times over, man. I fucking-- you're my fucking guy, alright? It's you and it's always been you and there ain't never gonna be no one else. But, Gordie, man… Why did you have to do that?"

"I don't know."

I tried to pull my hand away, but he snatched it up again. Closed the callused fingers of his good hand around my wrist in a grip just borderline painful.

"I would never, _ever_, hurt you, Gordie. But can't you? Fuck-"

The pressure increased, his words heating up as he leaned in even closer. All I could see were his eyes and they scared me.

"I know, Chris. I know."

"No you fucking don't! You think I'm a heartless bastard because I push you away again and again and I- Fuck, you know I do don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, Chris. You don't need to say it."

"Would _you_ say it:?"

"No."

He laughed a little at that, breath tickling my cheek and eyelashes touching mine. His hand convulsively moved from my wrist up to the back of my head, knotting in my hair and pulling on the strands.

"This is the only thing that makes sense now," He said. "You're the only thing that makes sense. When really this shouldn't make any fucking sense at all. Jesus, we're so fucked up man I can't even find myself."

"Chris, Chris… christ, I know."

"I know you know."

"And I know that you know that I know you know."

"Shit."

"Fucker."

"Pussy."

"Freak."

"Ass."

"Dipshit."

"Touch me."

So, I did.


End file.
